Chapter 2
That night, Victor returned to Lakeview Villa.
Kayla was curled up on the couch in her bathrobe, one hand resting on her baby bump, the other scrolling through her phone. As soon as she saw him walk in, she gave him a sweet smile.
"Victor, you're home!" Kayla called out.
Victor loosened his tie and sat down beside her, pulling her into his arms.
"It's done," he said.
"Really?" Kayla's eyes sparkled as she pushed herself up against his chest. "She signed it?"
"Yeah, she signed it," Victor replied.
"Victor, you're the best!" Kayla wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. "I knew she wouldn't dare say no."
Victor didn't say anything.
Kayla kept ranting, "She's hopeless. You were married to her for five years, and she never did a single thing for you.
"She comes from an average family, can't even hold down a job or make any money, and couldn't even have a kid for you—"
"That's enough," Victor cut her off.
Kayla pouted and stopped talking.
Victor leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes.
Maeve's final glance back at him left Victor with a nagging sense that something was off.
She was too calm, as if she were staring at a corpse.
But that uneasy feeling lasted only three seconds before Kayla's soft body and her sweet, teasing voice washed it away.
*****
Two months later, at city hall.
The marriage certificate was exchanged for a divorce certificate in fifteen minutes.
Victor held Maeve's hand the whole time and made sure to come when the place was nearly empty.
"Maeve, it's just a formality," he said softly.
Maeve nodded.
When she got the divorce papers, she didn't show any emotion at all. She slipped them into her bag and zipped it shut.
"I'll be going now," Maeve said quietly.
Victor called out to her, "Want to grab dinner tonight?"
Maeve paused, turning back to look at him, her gaze cool and distant. "Victor, we're divorced now."
"It's just a formality—"
"But legally, I'm not your wife anymore."
She gave him a faint smile, as fragile as a crack in thin ice.
"No need for dinner," Maeve said.
Then she turned and walked away into the sunlight.
Victor stood at the entrance of city hall, watching her silhouette fade into the crowd.
The divorce certificate in his hand felt like it was burning his palm.
He pulled out his phone and called Kayla.
"It's done," he said.
Kayla let out a happy cheer on the other end.
Victor hung up and got into the car.
The driver asked, "Mr. Boyle, should I take you to the office or—"
"Take me back to Lakeview Villa," Victor replied.
The car started moving.
In the rearview mirror, the entrance to city hall grew smaller and smaller.
He didn't realize Maeve never got into a cab.
She walked into the office building next door. She headed up to the fourteenth floor to the Eternal Law Firm.
Maeve pushed open the door to room 302.
Inside, a woman in her forties sat at her desk, her short hair neat and practical, black-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, with a stack of files about half a foot tall next to her.
"Ms. Norman, you're here," Rudy Mills greeted her.
"Ms. Mills," Maeve said as she sat down, pulled the divorce certificate from her bag, and set it on the desk. "Got the divorce certificate."
Ms. Mills opened the folder on her desk.
"Let's move on to the next step," she said.
She slid a list across the desk. "With the clues you gave me, I've already found out that Victor founded three companies while you were married.
"By law, you have the right to split the joint assets. But you told me not to make a move for now."
"That's right," Maeve said, taking the list and going through it item by item. "If I make a move now, I'll tip him off. I need time."
"What are you planning to do?" Rudy asked.
Maeve set the list down and looked out the window.
The view from the fourteenth floor wasn't nearly as good as from the seventy-eighth, but it would do.
"I want him to see me become someone completely out of his league," Maeve said.
"And then?" Rudy asked.
Maeve's lips curled into a confident smirk. "When he comes back begging me—"
She stood up and zipped up her coat. "I'll make him see what a real 'fake divorce' is all about."
Rudy leaned back in her chair, took off her glasses, and studied her.
"Ms. Norman, working with you really puts my mind at ease," she said.
As Maeve stepped out of the law firm, the midday sun washed over her.
She paused for a few seconds, taking a deep breath. Her hands were steady now.
From today on, she wasn't Victor's wife anymore. And she was no longer the Maeve who always endured in silence.
Three years were all she needed. It was enough time for her.
*****
Two years ago, that was the night Maeve walked in on Victor cheating for the very first time.
They'd been married for three years. She was twenty-five, and he was thirty-two.
It was her birthday.
Maeve left work early, picked up some groceries, and planned to make a homemade feast. That morning, before Victor left, he promised he'd be home early and kissed her on the forehead.
Maeve spent two hours in the kitchen, apron tied, cooking up a storm. The wine was set out to breathe, candles were lit, and she set out eight dishes on the table.
Eight o'clock.
Nine o'clock.
Ten o'clock.
Her phone buzzed.
Maeve glanced at her phone. It was a text from Victor: [Got a last-minute meeting. Don't wait for me.]
At eleven forty, Maeve turned off the warming tray. The wine was untouched, and the candles had melted down to just a nub.
She picked up her phone to text back [Okay,] but just as her finger touched the screen, a notification popped up.
It was an Instagram story from a fashion influencer.